Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Papua New Guinea and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Swell Maps to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharoah Sanders,
Toni Rubio,
Drexciya,
The Durutti Column,
K-Klass,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fear,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Brothers Johnson,
Scientists,
The Searchers,
the Slits,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bootsy Collins,
Alton Ellis,
F. McDonald,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Magazine,
The Cure,
ABC,
Gichy Dan,
Radio Birdman,
Ituana,
The Knickerbockers,
Groovy Waters,
Minor Threat,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ronan,
Talk Talk,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Star Department,
Japan,
Yaz,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Invisible,
Underground Resistance,
the Sonics,
FM Einheit,
Agent Orange,
The Gladiators,
Desert Stars,
Robert Görl,
Camberwell Now,
Kas Product,
Judy Mowatt,
Quando Quango,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scott Walker,
The Names,
The Monks,
The Sound,
The Wake,
Connie Case,
The Martian,
Black Sheep,
Minnie Riperton,
Make Up,
The Skatalites,
Camouflage,
The Five Americans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Flag,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.